


Drown in the Undertow

by cleopatras



Series: I Hate This Town [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alex Quackity being a therapist, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Friends to Lovers, Grunge, Karl is a drummer with issues, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past Child Abuse, References to Depression, Sapnap is a bassist with issues, and the token heterosexual, it works, very briefly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:15:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29931228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleopatras/pseuds/cleopatras
Summary: Across it all, Karl catches Sapnap’s eye, the boy nodding and asking, “So, what do you think of the band?”He smiles wide, “I think this is gonna be both the best and worst thing to have ever happened to me.”Karl is a college dropout in Columbus, Ohio with nothing better to do and Sapnap is in a band that really needs a drummer.(Title from All I Want by A Day To Remember)
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF) (mentioned), Karl Jacobs/Sapnap
Series: I Hate This Town [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2201256
Comments: 30
Kudos: 173





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> TW // mentions of past child abuse, depression, suicide and other adult themes

“I think your nose is bleeding,” a gruff voice pulls Karl out of his daze and he looks up to see a calloused hand reaching out to him. He happily accepts the help, feeling whoever was speaking to him pull him up off of the dingy ground of the poor excuse for a club they’re in at the moment. The only downfall of being into the underground punk scene, Karl supposes, is that the shows never take place in clean venues, but it’s a small price to pay. Then again, it isn’t every show that Karl is brutally pushed to the floor during the half-assed mosh pit. He’ll blame the beer he had for his clumsiness, but he knows there’ll be a bruise from whoever accidentally elbowed him to the ground.

He looks up at the person who helped him, a boy that looked oddly familiar, but it was always hard to tell in the dim lights. Before he said anything, he pressed the side of his palm against his nose, seeing his small tattoo covered with crimson blood. “Ugh, lame. Thanks for helping me up, dude.” 

“No prob, here,” the guy says, keeping a loose grip on Karl’s hand so he doesn’t get lost in the still-raging crowd (even though the show’s over now, the only music being played over speakers), pulling him towards the bar and grabbing a few napkins. He hands them over to Karl who happily accepts them, pressing them against his bleeding nose. 

In the brighter lighting by the bar, he realizes where he’s seen this guy before. “Oh, hey. You’re in the band. Cool show, I hadn’t heard of you guys before.” 

“Yeah, this was our first time playing this venue, but we don’t do live shows a lot because we don’t have a drummer and our stand-in is usually busy with his own shit… so kinda hard to do shows when you’re missing a vital instrument,” the guy sighs. He was the bassist if Karl remembers correctly. He remembers watching him and the lead singer back to back as they shared the microphone during the climax of the song. His rougher backup vocals had complimented the smoothness of the lead singer’s voice well. Everyone seemed to obsess over the lead singer and Karl understood it — he was tall with golden hair and tanned, freckled skin. He was a foreigner, that much was clear by the tan, but he still seemed to be close with the band so he couldn’t have been too new. Still, he was a heartthrob, that much was clear, but Karl had always had a thing for bassists. 

“I play drums.” It’s not meant to mean anything, just an offhand comment that came to mind at the mention of his favorite instrument. Really, he played a few, but drums were always something he had liked. Maybe he just liked to hit things that made loud noises, but that was just a result of all the pent-up frustration from his teens. 

However, the band member’s face lights up, “Really? Do you play in a band? Or, like, just for fun?”

“Oh, just for fun, I kinda just bang around on ‘em until it sounds right,” he shrugs, pulling the tissues away from his face to see if he’s still bleeding. It seems to have calmed down so he crumples up the napkins and places them on the bar, making a mental note to throw it away later. 

“Are you any good?”

“If this is you trying to ask me to be in your band, you can just ask,” Karl says with a laugh, taking in the way the other boy’s cheeks go pink at the accusation.

“Nick! Nick? Sapnap!” another voice calls and a tall man comes into view, sweat gluing his blond hair to his forehead and a giddy smile on his face as the two of them meet his line of sight. His face lights up as he wraps his arm around the boy’s — Sapnap? Nick? — shoulders. It’s the lead singer from earlier. “Ooh, who’s this? Hi, I’m Clay, but my friends call me Dream.”

He holds out his hand and Karl shakes it with a small smile, “Karl. Your friend here helped me up when I got my ass handed to me in the pit.”

The boy just shrugs, “Happens to the best of us. Anyway, what’s happenin’ here? Sap, you ready to help pack up, or are you too busy flirting?”

“Asshole, I’m just interviewing our new drummer,” the boy, who Karl has decided he’s going to call Sapnap by the use of context clues, smarts off, taking both him and Dream by surprise.

“Yo! You play? You any good? Actually, that’s not important we really need a fucking drummer, Wilbur is gonna kick my ass if I ask him to do another rock show. All he cares about is his stupid emo music.”

“Dream,  _ we _ write emo music,” Sapnap laughs, “We’re just angry about it.  _ Anyway,  _ yeah, what he said. We really need a fucking drummer dude.”

Karl contemplates his life up to this point. He’s a college dropout with an affinity for any instrument he can get his hands on and nothing better to do with his time. He figures joining a band is one of the healthier things he could do with his life and cheaper considering most of his hobbies include buying music or paying for shows. 

“I mean…” he sighs, looking at both of their hopeful faces, “Yeah, fuck it, what else am I gonna do with my time?” 

“Woo!” Dream exclaims, patting Karl on the back, “I’m telling Alex and Wilbur, man, Wilbur is gonna be so excited. Sap, get his info. Wait, actually, bring him to meet the boys, c’mon.”

“He’s always crazy after a show,” Sapnap comments once Dream has practically run away from the bar. “He always tells us it’s ‘cause of his ADHD, but he really just loves performing. C’mon, I’ll take you to meet the rest of the band.”

Karl can’t believe he’s gotten himself into such a predicament, but as he weaves through the crowd behind Sapnap, he can’t help but be excited. The boy in front of him opens the door to what must be the small backstage area where there are two boys along with Dream packing up instruments. 

“Gentlemen, meet the newest member of Empty Mirror!” Sapnap announces before correcting himself, “As long as you two are cool with it, of course. Karl that’s Alex, our guitarist, and Wilbur, the sad fuck you’re replacing.”

“Oh, thank God,” says Wilbur. His dark curls are nearly straight with how sweaty they are, a feeling Karl (and most drummers) are familiar with. He stands and walks over to Karl, briskly handing over a pair of drumsticks, “Take them, I love the blokes, but not this much.”

“Hey!” Dream exclaims, crossing one tattooed arm over the other while Wilbur’s only response is to flip him off. Karl’s laugh is giddy at the interaction, tucking the two drumsticks in the back pocket of his ripped skinny jeans as he leans against the wall. 

“Yo, we’ve been needing a drummer, that’s sick,” says the other boy, who Karl can only assume is Alex. He remembers him from the stage because he had been wearing a beanie that was clinging on for dear life for the entire show. The hat’s removed now, probably an effect of overheating since the boy had insane energy on stage. His long dark hair is almost a mullet, sticking to the back of his neck. A ring hugs the side of his nose, but in contrast to the other members, he doesn’t seem to have any tattoos. “Sorry, you had to meet Sapnap first, he probably gave you a dogshit impression of the band — hey, hey! Sapnap keep those hands to yourself! Violence isn’t the answer!”

Sapnap’s response to that had been to smack Alex up the backside of his head. Before Alex could complain once more, another person entered the room, significantly less sweaty, but still looking exhausted. 

“All right, I got our cut, we get fifty each,” the man spoke up, handing cash to the four members of the band. He almost handed one to Karl before hesitating, “Wait, I don’t know you. Who are you?”

“I quit, officially, they found someone,” Wilbur pipes up, nodding towards the brunet boy, “That’s Karl, seems lovely.”

“Thank God, we can actually book shows now without having to worry about your sorry ass,” the newcomer groans, sounding relieved. He’s given the same treatment as Dream — a middle finger from Wilbur. “I’m George, I do most of the booking and financial shit for them, but also tech stuff because literally all of them are college dropouts who can’t do shit.”

“Can’t drop out if you never went!” Sapnap exclaims, raising his hand for a high-five which Dream meets without even having to look. 

Alex, however, looks irritated, “Don’t hold me to the same standards as them, asshole, I went to law school. I simply… chose not to practice it.”

“He got kicked out for getting caught smoking pot,” Dream added, ducking the weak swing from Alex. The two giggle as Dream catches his arm and twists it behind his back before letting go. 

“Man, fuck tall people.” 

Across it all, Karl catches Sapnap’s eye, the boy nodding and asking, “So, what do you think of the band?”

He smiles wide, “I think this is gonna be both the best and worst thing to have ever happened to me.” 

  
  


As it turns out, it ends up being one of the best things that happens to Karl. Playing and writing with the band has quickly become one of his favorite things. They write all their songs together, but most of the lyrics come from Dream, which Karl doesn’t mind because he’s never been good at putting his feelings into words.

Maybe that’s why he and Sapnap refuse to acknowledge how close they’ve gotten. Karl gets along with the rest of the band just fine, Alex is already one of his best friends and Dream treats him like a younger brother despite Karl being a year older, but things with Sapnap are just different. During their writing sessions, he’ll lean on Karl with his bass in his lap, plucking notes that might fit the song while his head rests on Karl’s shoulder. When the band has movie nights in the house Sapnap, Dream, and George share, Karl more than often finds himself falling asleep on Sapnap’s lap while the boy plays with his hair. They don’t talk about it, but that seems to be the motto for the band. It’s obvious in half of Dream’s love songs that he’s talking about George, but they both refuse to make the first move and none of them want to give them the push they need. It’s obvious every time Karl meets Sapnap’s eyes that he’s not alone in what he feels, but he doesn’t have the heart to say it.

Money’s tight so Karl moves out of his shitty studio apartment and into Alex’s shitty house, but it never feels shitty when they’re together and that’s all he cares about. He doesn’t complain about Alex strumming his guitar or playing his keyboard in the early hours of the morning and if he’s bothered by Karl smashing on his drums all night until his drumsticks break, he doesn’t say anything. 

“Hear me out, hear me out,” Alex walks out into the garage, interrupting Karl’s playing. The frustration must ring through the music considering the concerned expression on his face. The brunet ceases his playing, running a hand through his hair and his hand coming back slick with sweat. “Instead of trying to break your drumset, you tell him how you feel.”

“Nope,” Karl smiles, resuming his playing. He’s drumming the beat to an old My Chemical Romance song, something that makes him feel alive.

“You are  _ literally  _ playing a song called I’m Not Okay,” his roommate shouts over his music, causing him to cease playing once again. “Don’t break another set of drumsticks before the show tonight and don’t wear yourself out. It’s only been a couple of months, don’t go drumming yourself to death before we make it.”

Karl groans, lightly hitting his head against the cymbal, “I don’t wanna make it. Or, I don’t  _ care _ if we make it. I’m in this for the music, dude, you know this. And stop bugging me about my relationship issues, if I wanna tell Sapnap how I feel, then I will, but I don’t want to. I can’t fuck things up in the band, I just got here.” 

“Things have been fucked up with this band, dude. This is probably the least fucked up thing that’s happened. We can handle a little crush,” Alex sighs, sitting down on the cold ground in front of the drum kit. “I mean, Dream and George have been fucking for months and refuse to tell each other how they really feel —”

“Thay  _ have been?”  _ he exclaims, “I thought it was just, like, a pining sitch.”

“Oh, it definitely is,” the other reassures, “but they at least let each other get physical instead of just bottling everything up. Not saying it’s healthy, but it’s better than not saying anything at all, I guess. We’ve all got our issues, ya know. I mean, Sapnap’s dad used to beat him, Dream’s parents can’t stand the fact that he likes dick, my last girlfriend nearly sent me off the rails, all kinds of shit. Even fucking Wilbur tried to off himself once. We’ve all got our shit.” 

Karl sighs, letting his drumsticks clatter to the floor, “I don’t know how to talk about my feelings, dude. I’m not even sure I’m mentally stable enough to have feelings for someone. I mean, after I dropped out and came back home, I could barely pull myself out of bed. The only thing that got me up was music, but what I was doing could barely even be considered music. It was just banging on a drum until I heard something that sounded like an answer. I thought the band would help and I mean, it did, and you’ve helped a lot, you know, but I just… I still feel like I’m a sixteen-year-old trapped in a fucking small town screaming at the sky until my lungs gave out. How do you guys keep it together? How do you stop yourselves from just… losing it?”

Alex scoffs at this, motioning to the drumkit, “We put it in the fucking music, dude. Now come on, let’s eat some lunch or something, or else you’ll be fucking drained for tonight. I think you’ve had enough for now.” 

At the show that night, Karl recalls his and Alex’s conversation. He looks at Sapnap, drinking him in as he ties a headband around his loose dark blond hair, smiling when he catches Karl’s eye. 

“How come you never tie up yours? It’s getting long,” Sapnap comments running a hand through his brunet curls absentmindedly. The motion sends electricity tingling down his scalp, but he tries his best not to show it. When Sapnap is in such close proximity, all he wants to do is just grab him and kiss him. Instead, he just wraps his arms around Sapnap’s neck and pulls the boy’s head into his chest. His next words are muffled, “What’s this for?”

“I dunno, I needed a hug today,” Karl shrugs, smiling when the boy hugs him back.

“C’mon queers, we got a show to play,” Dream teases, patting them both on the back as he races past them towards where the entrance to the stage is. 

Behind them, Karl sees George roll his eyes meanwhile Alex just complains, “I’m not even the gay one, you fuckers are! Hey, Karl, you feelin’ better?”

Karl nods and he’s being honest. His conversation with him earlier helped more than he thought it would, but as he and Sapnap let go of each other and he shoots him that stupid shit-eating grin and he knows the worst of it is yet to be over. 

“Was something wrong earlier?” Sapnap’s expression softens and Karl takes note of how the boy is still holding onto his wrist loosely, not wanting to let go just yet.

A small smile forms on his face, “Yeah, but are we really a punk band if we’re not all going through some shit?”

“You can tell me about it, ya know, Alex gives shit advice,” the statement is met by Alex smacking the backside of Sapnap’s head on his way to grab his guitar, pulling the strap over his shoulders, and making sure it’s in tune. Sapnaps response is to stick his tongue out. 

Karl just shakes his head, reaching up and squeezing his bicep affectionately. He’s wearing a tank top today, well, it was originally just a plain Pink Floyd t-shirt, but the boy had cut the sleeves off, meaning his shoulder tattoo that Karl always forgot he had was on full display. It was an old pirate ship, not hyper-detailed probably because Sapnap couldn’t afford it, but it was still a fairly high-quality piece.

“Hey, you’ve never told me about your tattoo.”

Sapnap looks down at it with an absent smile, shrugging and turning back to Karl, his hand covering the one Karl has on his arm and screaming, “Back in Texas, when I lived at home, I used to dream that a pirate ship would come sailing down the Rio Grande and take me away from home. When Dream and I moved in together, running to the cheapest state we could find, which, unfortunately, was Ohio, we found an old pirate flag in the house abandoned by the owner. I took it as a sign.” 

He doesn’t know what to say to that, so he does what a pirate would do and throws caution to the wind. He takes the hand he has on Sapnap’s bicep and pulls him in, his other hand cupping the boy’s face as he presses their lips together. The other boy kisses back and he can feel him smile, he can’t help but pull away slightly to smile too. Before long, Sapnap grabs him by the collar of his t-shirt, pulling him into another kiss and another. 

“I am going to fucking kill both of you, we need to be on stage,” Alex exclaims, fully unphased by the two of them being totally lip-locked. He grabs the back of Karl’s shirt, pulling him away from Sapnap, “Congratulations, but get your ass behind that drumset, we’re on in two.”

Karl shakes his head, a giddy smile on his face as his fingers gently brush against his lips, navigating in the low light to take his place behind the drums. There are a few scattered cheers as people watch him get settled. Being on stage is a feeling Karl will never fully get used to it, but seeing people excited just to watch him sit down will bring a smile to his face. He watches Alex hop on stage, plugging his guitar into the amp amid a few more cheers. He turns and shoots a thumbs-up in Karl’s direction to which he just laughs.

The rest of them take their places, but just before Sapnap pulls his bass over his neck, he leans over the drumset and gives him another kiss. There are a few cheers from people who caught the action, but it’s short-lived as the boy jogs back over to his bass and pulls the strap over his head. 

Still smiling, Karl raises his hands in the air, hitting his drumsticks together and counting, “One, two, three, four!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh.... surprise? here's a follow-up to last chapter no one requested

They haven’t talked about it. Karl thinks he’s fine with it, but apparently, he’s not considering this is the second drumstick he’s snapped in an hour. He curses under his breath as the silence overtakes the room, the rattling of the cymbal overtaking his ears until it finally stops from him grabbing it. He runs a hand through his sweaty hair, throwing the broken drumstick to the floor. It’s not that he needs a boyfriend right now, he’s probably better off without him, but he can’t deny that he wants to kiss Sapnap again (and again. Preferably, he never has to stop). Maybe this yearning he has is a sign that it’s finally time. Time to stop meeting strangers in the back of clubs or letting girls write phone numbers on him at shows knowing he’s never gonna call them. The last time he let himself have something serious was in high school and teenagers in love is never a good idea. 

Sometimes he still feels like he’s that stupid teenager. Banging on drums all night until he can’t breathe, trying to figure out all the things he’s feeling and finding no answer in the noise. He opens his drawer that houses his spare drumsticks, only to find out there’s none left. 

“Damn it,” he groans, running his hands through his hair. He walks over to the set, tempted to kick at it until his dirty converse puts a hole in it, but he knows he can’t afford a new one. Instead, he sits back down and takes a deep breath. He knows he needs to talk about his feelings, but he has no idea how to put any of this into words. How can he? 

He doesn’t know what possesses him, but he pushes away the seat and instead lies on the cold cement floor of the garage. The cold seeps into his bones, finding a home there. His eyes slip closed and for a moment he feels at peace. 

“Why is it I’m always finding you on the floor?” a voice interrupts him, but still manages not to disturb the peace. Sapnap walks over to where he lays, standing over him. Karl opens an eye, patting the ground next to him before closing it again. The other does as he’s told, settling down next to Karl on the cement. “Alex told me I’d find you here. He also told me you were running low on these.”

He opens his eyes to see Sapnap holding a fresh pair of drumsticks and he smiles, grabbing them out of his hand and placing them down next to him, “Thank fuck, I just ran out dude.” 

“Yeah, he told me you’ve been hitting these bad boys pretty hard. Something you need to talk about?” Sapnap offers and he hates how well his bandmates know him because of  _ course, _ Alex called Sapnap and of course he knew Karl was running low on drumsticks. He loves having a friend, but he hates that they know him so well. He was never meant to be an open book, not to anyone.

He turns his head to face Sapnap who is already looking at him. Part of him can’t take it. “I want to talk about it, but I don’t know how. I’ve never known how.”

“Me neither,” he shrugs with that stupid smile on his face, the one where his nose scrunches up and everything. Karl wants to kiss him. He figures maybe communicating that would be a good start.

“I wanna kiss you.” 

“You can,” Sapnap laughs, but he beats Karl to it, reaching over and letting a hand cup his face and he meets their lips. Despite the cold in his bones, Sapnap is warm. He’s always been warm. He thinks he could kiss Sapnap on this cold garage floor forever. When they pull away, they hold onto each other, the dirty blond’s palm warm against his cheek, inadvertently breathing life back into him with every lingering contact. “What else do you wanna talk about?”

Karl sighs, leaning into the touch as his own hand cups Sapnap’s, his thumb rubbing soft circles over it. “I’m not sure. I wanna know what this is, but I don’t even know what I want.”

“Well, we’ve already made it further than Dream and George in talking about feelings,” Sapnap lightens the mood with a joke like he always does, and Karl falls right into it, the two of them sharing a fit of giggles at the antics of their two friends. “I want this to be real if that helps. Do you?”

He thinks about it for a moment, thinking about what those words imply, “Yeah. Yeah, I think I want this to be real, too. It’s just… I’m not good at… this. I’m not gonna be good and then you’ll realize you don’t want me and then it’ll fuck up the band and I just —”

His rambling is cut off by Sapnap kissing him once more. He pulls Karl onto him, wrapping an arm around his waist in a way that makes his heart do a backflip. This feels real. He thinks it might be the realest thing he’s ever felt. He leans over Sapnap now, dark hair falling over his face as he cups Sapnap’s cheek, black fingernails against pale skin as he realizes he never wants to let this go. 

“You know,” Sapnap mutters once they pull away, his hand reaching up and pushing Karl’s hair out of his eyes. “I thought you were cute the moment I met you, like, even with blood rushing down your face, I was like “holy shit” and then you said you were a drummer and I thought it was fate. I think it’s more than that now. I think we were meant to find each other, but you’re the one who kissed me, you made that choice. For once, you pushed all those little fears to the side and grabbed me by the collar. I know you’re scared, I know, but I also know you’ve been brave before. You’ll always be brave to me.”

“Nick,” he whispers, the word trailing off because he can’t think of a single thing to say that could possibly compete with that. It’s not a competition, though. For once, this isn’t something he has to win, it’s simply something he can have. It’s not a fight, not an ocean to cross with a hole in the boat. It’s just him. And Sapnap. He doesn’t realize he’s teared up until Sapnap reaches up and swipes his cheek to clear away the tear. 

The boy meets his eyes, a sweet smile that says everything it needs to on his face, “You know, I’ll tell you a secret, Jacobs. Pinky promise not to tell anyone?”

He laughs and holds out his pinky, sniffling a little as he does so. “Promise.”

“No one’s ever made me feel the way you do. I don’t know what that feeling is and I don’t know how I could possibly put it into words to say to you, but I know you make me feel… warm. Like, like when I’m around you, I just wanna hold you and be near you and spill my entire heart to you. I’ve never felt like this for anyone, only you.” 

Karl considers this, leaning down until their foreheads are pressed together, his hands still on Sapnap’s cheeks. “Only me, huh?” 

“Only you,” Sapnap laughs, their eyes meeting in the close proximity, “I wrote a song about you, I’d sing it for you but my voice is too shit for main vocals, so I’ll let Dream do the talking, but the words will be mine.”

“A song?” Karl’s heart flutters, biting back the smile threatening to form, “and when was I gonna get to hear it?”

The other boy smiles, “When you’re learning how to play it.”

“Asshole,” he laughs, but there’s no malice behind it as he leans down and presses their lips together. He’s never going to get enough of this and he knows it. They’re gentle with each other in a way no one has been with him before, the warmth seeping through his fingertips and straight to his heart. He thinks if he’s not careful he’ll fall in love. He thinks he’s halfway there already. 

“What the fuck are you two doing on the  _ floor?  _ Do you know often we clean that shit? The answer is never,” a new voice interrupts the two of them, causing both of them to look up and burst into laughter when they see Alex standing in the doorway with a shocked expression. “What is it with you guys kissing in weird places? First, two minutes before a show, and now this? Just make out in bed or on a couch like  _ normal people.  _ Jesus Christ.  _ Malditos homosexuales.”  _

Karl laughs, shouting back, “Stop being homophobic!”

He’s met with a middle finger before the boy heads back into the house. The two of them keep laughing as Karl stands up, reaching out a hand. “My turn to help you up, huh.”

Sapnap just shakes his head as he grabs his hand and stands, brushing himself off before looking over at Karl. “I wanna do this, like, for real. I don’t care if it’s not perfect or not what I expected, I just… want you.” 

“Okay,” he nods, unable to fight back the smile forming on his face as he grabs Sapnap by the face once more, “Let’s do this.”

“Yeah?” Sapnap smiles, leaning in to kiss him once more. 

He kisses him again and again, whispering, “Yeah. Yeah, we’re doing this.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I have midwestern emo brainrot so I'm making a series of it! I'm choosing to do a series rather than a longfic because I would love to explore this au from multiple perspectives and instances in time so I figured I'd do another series in order to capture what I wanna do!
> 
> [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5mtDmqjdvKcj7kiuBZGeya?si=909c91bbc12e4c8f)  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/nicowritess)  
> [tumblr](https://andrewjminyvrd.tumblr.com/)


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